


Release Temptation

by rubberupandmakeitstarker



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Caught, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Premature Ejaculation, Religion, Religious Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 02:53:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17378234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberupandmakeitstarker/pseuds/rubberupandmakeitstarker
Summary: After Father Stark starts preaching at his church, Peter is overcome with temptation. He starts to touch himself, something he has refrained from doing for 18 years, every Sunday afternoon as a result. After being caught with his hand in his pants, Peter is dragged to Father Stark's office to be taught a lesson on the dangers of masturbation.





	Release Temptation

Due to careful monitoring on May’s part, Peter makes it to 18 before he discovers masturbation. He has been taught from an early age that playing with yourself is wrong and dirty. May has made sure to keep all media out of the house, going as far as making sure that the only thing Peter is allowed to read is certain chapters of the Bible. He’s homeschooled, so there is no way for him to hear about it from anyone else or be led to temptation by scantily clad classmates.

Peter’s only exposure to other people his age is at church, which he attends every Sunday. There, they are heavily watched, and there is never even the consideration of saying anything that might get them in trouble. Everyone is expected to dress modestly, in plain clothes that don’t draw any attention.

Occasionally, Peter feels temptation. A familiar heat in his belly, a stirring in his crotch, his brain going hazy, all things that Peter has been taught to recognize as sin, as a sign that he needs to stop what he’s doing and read his bible. If that doesn’t work, a cold shower does the trick.

Peter’s life as a good, sinless, shining example of God’s will is thoroughly shattered the day that Father Stark takes over the pulpit, stepping in his own father’s footsteps to lead the congregation. He hadn’t set foot in the building since his teens, only returning as a final request for his father, whose health is declining.

He’d seen the occasional woman with her shirt cut a little too low, the faintest hint of her cleavage showing above the fabric, but Peter had no idea that men were allowed to leave their homes, much less step into church with their button downs left open to the middle of their chest. The sight has a bolt of temptation tearing through his body, which says nothing about how Tony’s perfectly kept hair and absolutely delectable smile makes his crotch ache.

Peter can barely pay attention to the words Tony speaks. He’s vaguely aware that they are reading through Leviticus, but all his focus lands on the way Tony’s lips wrap around each word, the way his manicured fingers smooth over his lectern, the way his gut twists each time Tony’s brown eyes meet his.

Peter must spend twenty minutes under cold water when he gets home, utterly helpless against the way Father Stark’s voice plays on a loop in his brain, sending sparks through his body. He stares down at himself, stubbornly erect. Peter swallows. He’s been instructed to only ever touch himself if he is using the bathroom or washing, but never any other time. He has followed this, though he has sometimes washed himself for a little longer than needed, enjoying the warm fullness he feels when he does.

Deciding that he might as well take a real shower now that he is here, Peter turns on the hot water, sighing quietly as the water warms up against his skin. He washes his hair, his torso, his legs, finally making it to his crotch. He rubs the soap between his hands, carefully washing the stiff flesh. It feels better than usual, and Peter feels his face going hot when he realizes that the thought of Tony’s voice is what makes it feel so good. Peter rubs his thumb over his slit, a slick substance slowly dribbling out of him, and nips at the inside of his lip.

“ _I just keep making myself dirty_ …” Peter thinks, eventually wrapping his hand around the tip of himself. “ _I guess I need to keep cleaning it_ …”

Peter’s mouth falls open as he pulls his hand down his length, the sensitive skin practically singing beneath the touch. He continues, slow at first, but gradually becoming faster, and almost as soon as it started, Peter feels enormous pressure building inside him. It’s scary, he’s afraid he’s going to break, or this feeling may never go away, but he can’t bring himself to stop. A little noise forces its way through his throat when all the pressure suddenly releases, and _holy moly that feels so good_.

From then on, Peter is much more concerned with his personal hygiene on Sundays, and his love for church increases tenfold. He sits in the first pew, unknowingly flashing his puppy dog eyes up at Father Stark the entire time, only to go home and… wash himself. Thoroughly.

Peter assures himself that it’s not masturbation. He’s just been cleaning himself improperly this whole time. All that white stuff that comes out of him after he cleans himself long enough, that’s what he was supposed to do. Clean from the inside out, Peter finds himself drifting to sleep in his bed every afternoon after church, the sight and sound and smell of Tony wrapping up all his thoughts.

One day, after waking up from one of his naps, Peter finds himself rubbing against the mattress. His underwear is sticky with the clear fluid he has become so used to, and Peter buries his face in his pillow as he allows his body to continue pushing against the warm slick. It feels so _good_ , every nerve in his body screaming in pleasure. When Peter realizes that he isn’t reaching the same peak as he does in the shower, that all the pressure is only getting more intense and not rushing out of him like it does in the shower, he rolls onto his back. He considers simply taking another shower, but his hair is still damp from his first, and he isn’t allowed to have more than one shower a day unless he does something to get dirty in between, or if it’s a cold shower.

Peter purses his lips. Maybe he could… wash himself outside of the shower? His mind is fuzzy with the pressure antagonizing him, and that logic checks out as far as he is concerned. He pulls up the material of his sweater and tugs down the waistband of his sleep pants, looking down at himself, red and leaking onto his stomach. Peter takes hold of himself and sighs quietly, moving up and down his skin in a way that has come to be familiar. He can’t contain a small moan when he feels heat clamping down in his belly, a sure sign that the pressure is about to flush out of his body. His toes curl in his socks and his other hand grips tightly at his sweater, and oh, _oh-!_

“Peter!”

Peter startles with a yelp, yanking his sweater down to cover himself. Despite the jolt of fear and shame, the pressure inside of him releases anyway, and he groans quietly as he spasms and hot fluid is bursting over his stomach.

The next thing he knows, he’s sitting in Father Stark’s office. May didn’t even let him change clothes, and the inside of his sweater is sticky and cold and uncomfortable. His face burns with embarrassment, but he can’t force his brain to stop staring the pastor down as he stands in the doorway talking to May.

Father Stark lives here at the church, and his doors are always open to emergencies within the community. This means, though, that you might have to see him in his sleep clothes.

Peter feasts his eyes on Father Stark’s arms, strong and defined in his tank top. Further down his body Peter stares at the way his silk pants cling to him perfectly, every curve of his legs on display beneath the fabric.

“I’ll straighten him out for the night. You go home and get some rest, okay?”

“Okay.” May says, voice tight as she wipes tears from her eyes and walks away.

Father Stark closes the door and looks back at Peter, smiling when the boy’s eyes shoot down to the floor. “So.”

“I’m sorry, Father Stark.” Peter says quickly, refusing to make eye contact as Father Stark comes to stand in front of him.

“Please, call me Tony while you’re here.”

Peter nods sheepishly, continuing, “I didn’t know that I was doing… _that_.“

Tony chuckles airily. “What did you think you were doing?”

Peter swallows. “I always get extra dirty down there after church, so when I keep washing myself and the white stuff-“

“Ejaculate.” Tony inserts calmly.

“…So, when the ejaculate comes out, I feel really clean, and I just thought that I was cleaning myself out…” Peter trails off, realizing how stupid he is as he speaks. “Oh, no…”

“Yep…” Tony slowly crouches in front of Peter, looking in his eyes and smiling gently. “I know you know that you’ve sinned. I’m going to give you a pass this time, because I don’t think you realized what you were doing. Sometimes Satan works in our brains, and he clouds our judgement. God wouldn’t want you to be punished for one… slip up.”

Peter squirms uncomfortably, trying to place his hands in his lap as casually as possible to hide the stiffening skin in his fleece sleep pants. “It was… it was more than once.”

“Oh.” Tony says, his voice no less gentle. “How many times, do you think?”

Peter swallows. “How many Sundays have you been here?”

Tony thinks, eventually saying, “Nine, I think.”

“Then I’ve done it ten times.” Peter mumbles lowly, shame flaring in his chest.

Tony smiles warmly. “Did I have anything to do with that?”

Peter nods, tears building in his eyes. “Yeah, I… I thought about you… every time.” Peter sniffs, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “N’I only ever did it in the shower after church, cause I thought I was just getting extra clean, but it always felt so good if I thought about you. Then today I woke up from a nap and I was still thinkin’ about you and I put my hand down my pants and then Aunt May caught me and…” Peter motions vaguely to his shirt.

Tony eyes the material, realizing that it is damp in blotchy stripes. “Oh, you poor thing.”

Peter gaps his mouth. “I- what? You’re not, like… mad?”

Tony sighs. “No, I’m not mad. Listen, Peter, I’m going to level with you. My dad asked me to become the pastor here, and so I’m going to do that job to the best of my ability. But I can’t, in good faith, tell you that masturbating is going to hurt your relationship with God. It’s perfectly natural.”

Peter shakes his head in disbelief, though he is painfully erect beneath his hands. “I, I can’t… it’s a sin, I’ve gotta stop.”

Tony nods. “I understand.” He eyes Peter’s hands, less than conspicuously hiding himself. “Everything okay down there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just…” Peter swallows. “Being around you and thinking about you makes me…”

“Hard?” Tony offers.

“Is that what it’s called?” Peter asks, slowly pulling his hands away from his lap to show the outline of his erection.

Tony smiles warmly. “You don’t want to masturbate. Would you be okay with me doing it for you?”

Peter’s body jolts when Tony’s fingers gently pet him through his pants. “Please, please…”

“Okay.” Tony says softly, urging Peter to push his pants down his hips. Once the boy’s cock is free to the warm air of Tony’s office, he pauses. “Here, let’s-“

Peter silently obliges when Tony takes his hand and pulls him to his feet, leading him to a door and leaving his pants a pool on the floor. They walk through the door into a small bedroom containing a full-sized bed, cozy blankets still mussed from where Tony had likely been lying down only a few minutes before.

“Here we go.” Tony murmurs as he sits against his headboard and drags Peter into his lap. Peter’s legs hang out to either side of Tony’s body, and his face tucks instinctively into his neck.

“You smell really good…” Peter blurts out, huffing in a breath of Tony’s scent from his collar. He smells like old books and worn-out cologne, and Peter is put in a haze at how good just the _smell_ of Tony has him feeling.

Tony chuckles softly. “Do I normally not smell good?”

“No,” Peter says quickly. “You always smell good. S’just when I’m this close to you, you smell… _really_ good…”

“Oh, okay.” Tony says, easing his hand between their bodies. “I’m going to touch you now, is that okay?”

Peter nods fervently into Tony’s shoulder, resting his forehead on him to watch as smooth fingers wrap around him. “Oh, Father Stark-!”

Tony cringes at the title, reminding softly, “Tony. I don’t really like to be called Father Stark.”

“Tony…” Peter murmurs. The name falls more naturally from his mouth, and it becomes stuck on a loop as Tony starts to move up and down his length.

“Is that good?” Tony asks lowly, though Peter chanting his name answered the question before he even asked.

“Yeah, yes-“ Peter huffs, his hips rutting into Tony’s touch on their own. His fingers twist into Tony’s tank top, the pressure building unbelievably quickly in his groin. The slick leaking out of his body supports the movement of Tony’s hand, and it only takes a few more strokes for Peter to cry out and for his hips to lurch.

Peter’s release spurts onto Tony’s stomach, and Tony pats Peter’s back soothingly with his free hand. “There you go.”

Peter suddenly stiffens, looking at Tony with horror in his eyes. “Wait. Homosexuality is a sin.”

Tony blinks. “Was that homosexuality?”

Peter gaps his mouth. “I mean, the Bible says not to lie with a man the way you’d lie with a woman.”

A smirk spreads over Tony’s face. “Most of the time, women don’t have penises. So, I wouldn’t lie with a woman this way.”

“Oh…” Peter says softly. “So, it’s… this is okay?”

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be.” Tony says.

“Okay.” Peter sighs, allowing himself to relax into Tony’s chest. “So… what should I do if I need to, to do that again?”

Tony shuffles down the bed to lie on his back, minimally concerned about the mess between his and Peter’s bodies. “Sounds like you only really feel temptation on Sundays. Maybe you could stay for a while after service, help me clean up, talk a little more about the sermon, let me touch you if you want it…”

Peter nods sleepily, a dumb smile plastered on his face. “I like that idea.”

From then on, every Sunday afternoon, Peter stays at church with Tony. May is pleased, encouraging Peter to spend as much time with Tony as possible because he is such an excellent example of how a god-fearing man should behave. He helps with anything Tony needs, and when they’re finished, and they are the only two people remaining in the building, Tony leads Peter to his bedroom and… releases his temptations.


End file.
